Corey stood up, knocking the chair over. It crashed to the floor, one of the wooden legs breaking off and rolling across the floor. Jessie looked up at him, seeing the anger and the sadness vying for control of his emotions.
“Enough with the fucking babies,” Corey snarled. “I don’t want you to have a baby, okay, can you fucking understand that?”
“What?” Jessie asked, her voice almost a whisper.
“When you lose it again, what the fuck’s going to happen to you then?” Corey shouted, kicking another chair out of his way as he went around the table. “I can’t fucking take any more of this. I can’t do it. Maybe I’m not as strong as I thought I was, but I don’t care, I can’t do this again.”
“Fine, okay,” Jessie said, scrambling to her feet and going to him. He turned away from her. “We don’t have to try again, not just yet. We can just focus on us.”
Corey’s shoulders slumped, and he kept his back to her.
“No, Jessie, it’s done,” Corey said, the fight gone out of him. His voice was soft again, and Jessie thought this was worse than his anger. He sighed. “I think you should pack a bag. Go back and stay with your mum.”
“No,” Jessie said. “I won’t do it, I love you Corey, I love you more than –”
“I love you too,” Corey said, turning to face her. There were tears in his eyes, and Jessie wanted to hold him, to ease his hurt, but she knew he wouldn’t let her. He tried to control his emotions. “I really do love you, Jess. More than any other girl, and I mean that, but I can’t be with you. You need to get help, and I can’t do that for you.”
“You can help me,” Jessie pleaded, crying, tears sliding down her cheeks, dripping off her chin. “Please, Corey, I need you.”
“You don’t need me,” Corey said, shaking his head. “You need help. You need to go back to your mum’s place.”
“Please, don’t throw me out,” Jessie cried.
“It’s for your own good,” Corey said. “And mine. I’ll call you a taxi for half an hour, give you time to pack up your things.”
“No, no, no,” Jessie wailed, tearing at her hair, but Corey was walking out of the kitchen, wiping his own eyes, and she felt truly alone in the world.
* * *
Dante tried to relax as he stretched out on his bed, but there was too much on his mind. He had done a few lines and his thoughts raced. He did not know what Nathaniel intended to do, or if he even cared enough to do anything. Perhaps he had given up on the lifestyle and just wanted to serve his time.
That was not the pressing thought right now, though. Dante was tense, waiting to find out what had happened to Troy. His cellmate had been gone all day and he had still not come back yet. He wondered if perhaps he had been found not guilty. The thought was almost laughable, but crazier things had happened, Dante reasoned. If his cellmate was really not coming back, then it made it twice as easy for him now.
He would not have to worry about him finding the drugs or the phone any more, and besides, he had grown fed up of Troy’s sour face and mood swings. Good riddance, Dante thought, let everyone else deal with his attitude. Rather them than me, he decided.
The cell door opened and Dante sat up, scowling at the thought of seeing Troy’s miserable face. If he had been found guilty, he would never hear the end of the bitching. He was surprised when the officer stepped aside, and a lad that Dante had never set eyes on before walked in. He was dark skinned with dreadlocks and tattoos, but he shifted nervously as his gaze flickered to Dante and then back to the floor.
“Your new cellmate,” the officer said.
“Troy got found not guilty?” Dante asked.
“The jury must have been thick as planks,” the officer rolled his eyes, and then left, closing and locking the door behind him.
Dante eyed up the new arrival.
“What’s your name?” he demanded.
“Reese,” he replied, his voice cracking with nerves. He was terrified to be here, Dante realised, unable to stop a grin from spreading across his face.
“Your first time in here Reese?” he asked. Reese nodded, not moving from where he stood by the door. “Well, I’m a big deal in here,” Dante told him. “So let me explain how things are going to go down, just so we don’t have any problems, right man?”
Reese swallowed hard and nodded, and Dante began to lay out the rules.
* * *
The flat was quiet as Clint opened the front door and stood in the dark hallway. He could hear his father’s loud snores coming from his parents’ bedroom, and he dare not make a noise in case he woke him.
He closed the door and crept into his bedroom. Kojo’s bed was empty, but Clint did not pay it any mind. His brother had made it clear that he did not need or want anything from him. He was probably out drinking with his mates, he thought. He could not stop him from making mistakes, Clint thought, as he stripped down and climbed into bed. No more than he could go back and erase his own mistakes, he thought sadly.
The argument with Aurora replayed in his mind, over and over again, her words echoed through him. The devastation on her face, the tears and curled back lips, burned into his consciousness. It was all he saw as he closed his eyes.
He buried his face into his pillow to muffle the sound of his sobs, his body shaking with the force of them. He was grateful then that his brother was not there. He did not want anyone to see him like this, did not want to acknowledge, even to himself yet, that he was a broken man now.
* * *
“What do we do about Troy?” Amal asked, looking at his brother across the kitchen table. Naz glared at Amal through narrowed eyes, but grudgingly looked to Sanjay for his answer. Amal knew his cousin was still suspicious about what might have happened between him and Shontelle, but he had lied to his cousin, told him that it had just been a night out, and for now Naz had seemed to swallow the explanation.
They had more pressing matters right now, Amal thought.
Sanjay drank from his can and leant back, apparently unconcerned by Troy’s release from prison. He did not seem surprised, and if he was, he hid it well.
“Nothing,” Sanjay said, shrugging. “Troy getting out doesn’t change anything. You think he’s going to help Tyrese in any way? If anything, it’ll make it easier for us. You know what a liability he is.”
Amal and Naz exchanged looks, and Sanjay sighed.
“Look, this could be a blessing in disguise for us,” Sanjay explained. “Jayden’s men wanted Troy to get locked up for killing Wright. Wright was pretty well respected, and now that Troy’s out, they’ll be wanting some justice now the court ain’t provided any.”
“You think Jayden’s going to go after Troy?” Amal asked, disbelieving. Troy did not seem important enough for him to bother with.
“Not Jayden, but Corey and the others could probably be provoked into doing something stupid,” Sanjay replied. “If one of them strikes, then the Banks brothers are going to retaliate. We just sit back and let them go tit-for-tat, until they’re weak enough for us to take over.”
“We just wait then?” Naz sighed, rolling his eyes. “The waiting game is getting boring now. How long have we been waiting for this? Maybe we should start doing something.”
Sanjay looked affronted that Naz had questioned him. He leant forward, fixing Naz with a steady look.
“You want to go up against the Banks brothers and Jayden Healy?” Sanjay asked, and Naz looked cowed, shaking his head. Sanjay snorted. “Didn’t think so, Naz. We’ll wait.”
Amal nodded, though he was starting to share Naz’s discontent. They had waited so long for this and all Sanjay seemed to want to do was wait.
At some point, Amal knew, the time would come when they had to strike.
* * *
The court house was emptying when Troy was finally processed out. He got his possessions back and was ushered on his way. He was still wearing his oversized suit, and he undid the tie and tossed it in the nearest bin, unbuttoning his collar and untuck
ing his shirt.
He looked up and down the street, the sunlight fading from the sky, streetlights beginning to flicker on. The sense of excitement he had expected to feel did not materialize. Perhaps it was overshadowed by the anger he felt, he thought, as he gritted his teeth.
Though he had hardy expected a welcome home party, he had at least expected his family to be here for him when he got out. He had seen his family in court today, but they had gone, abandoning him. He knew that it was a message. He was not wanted, no longer welcome in the family.
Tyrese and Trent had both been in court before, and neither of them had been tossed out this way, like a piece of trash. He swallowed hard, checking his pockets. He had put his phone and wallet in the suit jacket, pleased that he had his own belongings back now.
His phone was dead, but he still had some cash.
That was all he needed right now, he told himself. There was nobody he wanted to call, not yet at any rate. He wanted a pint, a joint, and a good fuck. In that order.
He glanced over his shoulder at the court house behind him, pleased that he could leave all that behind him now as he crossed the road and headed for the corner shop. He would pick up some cans and then work on ticking the rest of his list off.
His family could not write him off, he decided. They owed him. They had not visited him, not supported him, not shown him any respect whilst he had been banged up. All that was going to change, he told himself, but for now they could wait.
Right now, he just wanted to let loose and put the stench of prison behind him.
* * *
The gym was beginning to empty as darkness pressed against the windows, but Serena refused to be defeated. She was breathing hard, her work out clothes dripping with sweat, as she ran harder, faster, her trainers smacking the belt of the running machine hard.
Her body was crying out for a rest, but she did not stop. Her mind could not shake the thought of Troy’s smug face when the verdict was read out. She could hardly believe that he had got away with Shaniqua Curtis’s murder.
She thought of what Aurora and Marlena must be going through. She had promised them that justice would be served, and she had failed them both. She thought of what she had said to Clint and the other witnesses, how they had trusted that their testimony would see Troy locked up.
The burn of the work out at least distracted her a little from her overworked mind. Serena knew that at some point she would have to stop and face up to reality. She would have to pack her bag and return home defeated, leaving behind her a killer who had walked free and a trail of devastated people for whom the courts had failed.
She grabbed her water bottle and gulped some down, refusing to stop even as her legs screamed in protest. Perhaps, she thought, she should not give up on seeing Troy Banks behind bars either.
* * *
Jessie fell onto the bed she had shared with Corey and sobbed. Her throat burned, her eyes stung with the tears, and she let out a wail, kicking and punching the mattress beneath her, but nobody came to soothe her. Corey was somewhere in the house, she knew, but he wouldn’t come. He had made it perfectly clear that they were finished, that he wanted nothing more to do with her.
If only she hadn’t lost the babies, she thought, everything would be so perfect. It was all her fault, she decided, her broken womb, her childish stupidity, her carelessness in betraying the man she loved.
She didn’t blame Corey for throwing her out. If anything, she was pleased for him, relieved at least that she hadn’t broken him beyond repair with all the heartache she had caused him.
The thought of moving back to her mother’s flat was abhorrent. She would have to live in her brothers’ shadows once more, only now it would be worse, because she’d had a taste of freedom, of true love, and her life would never be the same again.
Her tears stopped and she wondered if she had dried up, unable to shed any more tears. Perhaps she’d cried too much over the last few months and didn’t have anything left to give. It wouldn’t surprise her.
She lifted her head from the duvet and sat up, looking around her room. No, it wasn’t hers anymore, she reminded herself. It was just Corey’s. Perhaps he would bring other girls back here, she thought, distressed by the thought of him moving on, being with another woman, when she knew she’d never be able to get over him.
She loved him with all her heart, and she couldn’t even think of being with another man, not now, not ever. Goldie had been a mistake, one she would regret every day of her life, and she wished she could tell Corey how much she wished things had been different, but his mind was made up, and he wouldn’t listen now.
Lifting herself off the bed, she went to the wardrobe in the corner of the room. Her clothes were hung up beside Corey’s and her heart ached as she pulled the clothes down, throwing them on the bed. She wasn’t sure if she had a suitcase, so she rifled under the bed, searching without luck.
She was going to call Corey, but she stopped herself. She pulled open a drawer beneath the wardrobe and stood on it tentatively, checking on top of the wardrobe. She didn’t find the suitcase, but she found a heavy box.
Pulling it down, she sat on the end of the bed and opened it. She gasped, looking down at the handgun it contained.
She lifted it out of the box, surprised by the weight of it. The bedroom door was closed and the house was silent. She held the gun in her hands, and wondered what Corey was doing now. Was he already thinking of his plans for tonight, her own troubles forgotten? Did he already have a girl in mind to replace her? Life was so unfair, she thought, stealing her babies and turning Corey against her.
It was all her own fault, she reminded herself, she had caused all of this.
Her hands shaking, she lifted the gun up. It was awkward, and her palms were damp against the cool metal butt where the magazine was.
She wondered if Corey would think of her at all. She hoped he would, but she couldn’t be sure. He probably wanted to put this all behind him, and she knew he would find a perfect girl, someone who could have babies, who wouldn’t cheat on him, who would make him feel amazing. She wished it could have been her.
The barrel of the gun was cool as it touched her cheek. It was heavy and her hands shook, but she opened her mouth and slid the barrel inside her mouth. Her teeth bit awkwardly into the top and bottom of the metal, and her tongue was pressed uncomfortably against the underside of the barrel, so all she could taste was metal.
She blinked rapidly, tears threatening to fall again. One slid down her cheek and she knew that she couldn’t handle any more tears. Corey would not miss her, she was sure of that, and she didn’t want to be without him.
She swallowed, almost choking on the barrel in her mouth, and her hands were shaking harder now. She closed her eyes, squeezing more tears from between her eyelids, feeling them slide down her cheek again.
Eyes closed, she brought up a picture of Corey in her mind. Her palms were damp against the magazine, and her hands shook, but the barrel remained steady, gripped between her teeth, the muzzle almost pressed against the back of her mouth so she had to resist the urge to gag.
She thought of Corey, remembering when they had first started dating, how happy they had been, how infatuated each of them had been with the other. She remembered when she had moved in and the freedom and overwhelming joy she had felt as she had unpacked, Corey helping her, a smile on his face that had missing lately. She thought of when she had found out she was pregnant, how delighted they had both been, how Corey had promised to protect them both.
She had failed Corey and she had failed both of her unborn babies.
There was nothing she could do to make it better, she knew that much.
Her finger inched along the magazine and found the trigger. She knew it wouldn’t hurt and she would be with her babies soon. She thought of Corey, bit down harder on the barrel of the gun, and pulled the trigger.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Corey Healy could not forget the moment he had found J
essie dead and he thought of the scene now as Jayden parked outside the churchyard and turned off the engine, the two brothers sitting in silence in the front seat, Jazz weeping gently in the back, a handkerchief over her face to try and hide her distress.
He had been with them in the kitchen when he had heard the gunshot. It was almost funny, because he had been in the middle of reassuring Jazz that Jessie would be better off at her mum’s flat when the shot had rung out, reverberating throughout the house. He had run upstairs, ahead of the others, and almost torn the bedroom door off its hinges as he had flung himself inside.
Jessie was lying on the bed, a mass of blood and gore spread out on the duvet like a gruesome halo. Her hand had twitched for a second, the gun loose in her palm, and he had known at once that she was dead. Nobody could have survived that and he had cried for Jazz to call an ambulance, not wanting his little sister to see her best mate like this, whilst Jayden had thrown his arms around him and tried to drag him out of the room.
He shivered, though the interior of the car was reasonably warm, the sun outside heating up the windows.
Jayden patted him on the shoulder, a reassuring look on his face. Corey nodded, knowing that it was time to say goodbye. He opened the car door and breathed in the fresh air and looked at the sunshine, painfully aware that Jessie would never see the sunshine again.
* * *
The funeral music started up and Keskia gripped the tissue tightly in her hand, twisting it in her agitation, hardly able to bear looking down the aisle as heads turned towards the coffin. Tyrese, Trent were at its head, leading the way, their broad shoulders more than capable of bearing Jessie’s slight weight.
Corey and his brother Jayden took up the rear, and Keskia’s shoulders shook as the coffin passed her and the four men lowered her onto the table at the front of the church. The music came to an end as the men bowed low and took their seats beside her in the front row.
Tyrese was beside her, and Trent beside him. Corey and Jayden sat on the other side of the aisle. There was no sign of Troy. Whether he had been released from prison yet or not, she did not know, did not have the energy to find out. Wherever he was, she hoped he was thinking of his sister.
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